Love/Hate

I love having my sister Lisa over. This last visit, I forced her helped her to set up her NaNoWriMo account and in addition to having her daughter occupy my sons in play and the joy of kissing her plump little baby boy all over his sweet little face, it was wonderful just to hammer out word count companionably beside her.

I hate unpacking the boxes of things that I kept from my mother's apartment. I did three of them today and every single thing in each of those boxes hurt my heart as I put it away. My eyes still stung hours after I'd finished and moved on to other things, grief following me around like a raincloud. I know that someday I'll be able to tell someone, "Oh, that was my mother's" in an offhand, matter-of-fact way-I just don't know how I'll ever get there.

(Post script~I got the love/hate prompt for this post from Ginny Marie. Thanks, Ginny!)